


Precognition

by Ritter_von_Ren



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, M/M, Prophetic Dreams
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 04:08:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11328300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ritter_von_Ren/pseuds/Ritter_von_Ren
Summary: Armitage is the man of Kylo's dreams, but dreams are dangerous and not always as they seem.





	Precognition

The sun was not unbearable but present, cutting through the thick, salty sea air like butter and making the hairs on Kylo’s neck stick to his skin. The marketplace on the docks was bustling and strangers brushed against his shoulders as he walked aimlessly down the street. He smelled fish and the biting brine of the ocean above all but here and there a fruity or floral aroma would float toward him, enticing him. A guitar plucked in the distance, some busser singing his poor heart out. Seagulls cawed without abandon, those damn sky rats. Kylo hated them. The waves lapped against wood pillars holding ships at bay, and people talked in a foreign language he couldn’t understand. He heard a deep bell ringing somewhere and the sound of his own feet scraping along the off-white cobblestone. He felt like he had been walking this stretch for hours, the scenery and sensory overkill unchanging like an endless loop he was trapped in. He looked to his left out at the ocean, so bright and clear; the palest blue, rocking boats to and fro and sparkling blindingly. His skin felt salty and abused; he was wearing far less clothing than he was used to and he was fairly certain he was getting sunburnt on his cheeks and shoulders. It was all so unusual, unfamiliar. It rained a lot in the foggy town where he was from… he should be there shouldn’t he? Where was he exactly?

He stopped in his tracks, breaking the loop, and the world stopped with him. People frozen in time, the sea still and calm like a photograph on a travel brochure. It was like the Matrix. The air turned stale and he felt uneasy. He saw movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to see a patch of grass illuminated, jarringly out of place relative to the marketplace. On the grass, a man dancing in silence. The only thing in the world that was moving, the man had shocking orange hair and pale skin littered with carefree freckles. He danced with his eyes closed, hips moving sensually, and arms in the air. He was wearing light denim jeans and a grey tank top that rode up, exposing his milk white stomach when he arched a certain way. Slowly, the rest of the world went out of focus like a video game that wasn’t done rendering. What used to be vivid detail faded into blocks and nondescript forms.

The people around him all vanished into thin air at once and all he could see was the man in the intense direct light of the sun, his skin luminescent and ethereal, hair burning like a brilliant flame. He wasn’t a great dancer, Kylo thought, but there was something genuine in his movements. Something feral and unhinged masked behind movements that could almost be described as graceful. Something bubbling below the surface threatening to break out with every raise of an elbow or bend at the knees. Kylo couldn’t feel the ocean breeze or smell the salt anymore. The man moaned, straight up moaned in the softest honey-like voice as he shimmied his hips up and down and ran his hands through his hair, over his face, and down his torso in a fluid motion. Two pert nipples were sticking out from underneath the fabric of the thin tank top, and Kylo wanted to take it off, to see them. He bet they were pink like the man’s lips and blush. He felt like he was intruding on something sacred, watching the man bare his true colors just for him. The air was crackling with invisible currents of electricity, edging Kylo on a fine line between numb and overstimulated.

The man opened his eyes and focused them on Kylo who sucked in a breath at the intensity he felt behind them. They were the prettiest greenish grey color he had ever seen, mesmerizing in contrast to the sunflower gold of the eyelashes framing them. When did he get close enough to be able to see his eyelashes? The man smiled, effortless and bright all the way to his eyes, making them shine and crinkle. Something dangerous and raw opened up inside Kylo, filling him with emotion. The ginger wrapped his arms around Kylo’s neck and continued to sway.

“Dance with me,” He whispered in an accent Kylo couldn’t place. It sounded almost Irish.

“Where are you from?” Kylo asked, his own voice feeling far away. He chastised himself for not thinking of anything more clever to say.

“The year of the cat,” The man answered. Kylo’s eyes narrowed in confusion and the other man laughed loudly and suddenly, throwing his head back.

\----------

Kylo stared at his office computer, seeing but not understanding the words on the screen. He was lost in a hazed daydream, disassociating in memory of his dream the night before. He could almost still feel the heat on his shoulders; the dream had been so real. He closed his eyes and saw the man’s haunting eyes, heard his shrill laughter.

“Ky?” A voice behind him spoke and Kylo jolted, torn once again from the man’s arms. He swung around in his swivel chair, eyes surprised. He relaxed when he saw it was just Poe, his best friend since childhood and the only reason he still showed up to this draining cubicle job. That and the money. “Man, are you okay? You look like you saw a ghost.”

“I did,” Kylo said, running a hand through his thick hair. His gaze was distant. He kept seeing Grey-green. His mother had a dress that colour once, that she wore to Kylo’s middle school graduation.

“You need a lunch break,” said Poe who already started walking down the hall.

“Yes please,” Kylo muttered, grabbing his phone and putting it in his pocket before following Poe in long strides down to the elevator. Poe pressed the call button and they got in with some girl from marketing who Poe had no problem chatting up, flashing his million dollar smile. Kylo’s fingers ran over his thighs absentmindedly, feeling his phone under the fabric of his slacks. They got out and the girl handed Poe her card with her number before they parted ways and the two men left the building. Poe clicked his tongue and waved the card in Kylo’s face.

“You see that, buddy?” He bragged, putting it in his jacket pocket with a whistle.

“Mhmm,” Kylo agreed monotonously and let his muscle memory carry him to the sandwich shop down the street. The air was heavy and the sky was a depressing dark gray; it was going to rain soon. Poe walked by his side, silent and unerringly relaxed.

“You gonna tell me what happened?” Asked Poe, opening the door to the shop for Kylo who felt like he was high.

“Weird dream… it’s sticking with me. Can’t shake it.”

“I know a guy who analyzes dreams, have I told you that? They’re important. They’re the window to your psyche or something. What your subconscious is concerned about whether you know it or not.” Poe made large gestures with his hands when he talked; it was something Kylo really liked about him. 

“Is that so?” Kylo asked, staring at the menu on the wall even though he got the same thing everyday. “So my subconscious is concerned about the ocean and dancing men?” 

“Maybe it’s telling you you need a vacation,” Poe grabbed his wallet out of his pants. “And to get laid. You do, I think. Yeah, you’re stressed out, you know? I can feel it.”

Poe ordered for both of them and Kylo sat down at his regular cushioned booth by the window. A plastic bag adorned with a yellow smiley face skipped down the street outside, animated by the wind. Year of the Cat by Al Stevens played over the shop speakers.

\----------

Kylo stepped into an abandoned church. The wood was rotting and smelled musty, like wet dust when it rains, reminding him of a camping trip he took with Han when he was a boy. The nostalgia rode through him like a wave as he took in the sights of pews toppled over, the moonlight pouring in over shards of stained glass on the floor through holes in the ceiling. Kylo didn’t feel like he existed in this world, like he was stuck in the feeling between falling asleep and being awake. He was hiding between the words on the tip of his tongue and fleeting feelings of almost recognizing shadows only to have them disappear when he looked the other way. He wandered down the main aisle and tried to recall what he was here for, floor almost solid under his feet. His head felt so full of nothing it could burst. He remembered sneaking into his old high school during summer break and feeling like this, the feeling you get stopping in unfamiliar convenience stores on long roadtrips. Altered realities. He has the opposite of phantom limbs;, he feels like a ghost here. Everything is dull and grey and he can’t get enough air into his lungs. He’s drowning. The room gets darker and more sinister. What happened here to make it so haunted? Kylo braces himself by leaning against a sticky brick wall. Sucking stale life into his lungs and coughing out consciousness. A hand touches his arm and he is yanked from the looming darkness. His veins are injected with color. His head whips to the side and the redheaded man is there, staring at the broken altar.

“It’s you,” Kylo says, though it’s barely his voice. The other man drops his hand and laces their fingers together.

“Of course,” He replies in that strange accent. He leans his head on Kylo’s shoulder and closes his eyes. “Take me somewhere else, won’t you? I don’t like this place.”

Kylo isn’t sure where they even are, let alone how to leave. He does know, however, that he doesn’t want to deny this man anything. He looks down at him, moonlight illuminating the freckles on his cheeks and eyelashes spread like feathers, fluttering on his skin. He feels determined to get him somewhere more comfortable, warmer. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He’s pleased to find there aren’t any cobwebs in his lungs. Something around him, or maybe inside of him changes. He hears crickets, suddenly, frogs and sloshing water, owls, and chirping. He opens his eyes slowly, afraid to do so. He looks around and sees fireflies first, then the scene around him unfolds as his eyes adjust. He’s in some sort of a bog or marsh land, the moon full and shining on the dark waters, casting shadows everywhere. There’s a wooden house with dim light peering through the windows and a patio with rocking chairs a few hundred feet behind him. A lantern hangs and bugs orbit it zealously. Creatures lurk below the swamp and trees hang lowly, soggy with humidity. They’re standing on a wooden pathway covered with moss. It’s earthy and muddy and so very wet, his skin feels damp with a warm sweat that can’t evaporate, especially where the redhead is still holding his hand.

“Kylo, this is lovely,” he says, “I’ve never been any place like this before.”

“Neither have I,” Kylo admits. The closest he’d been is the Blue Bayou at Disneyland.

“You know my name?” He asks, moving to stand in front of the other. Something below causes the water to bubble.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know yours,” Kylo counters. The other man offers a feline smile and runs his free hand down Kylo’s chest.

“Not important,” He says.

\----------

He taps his steering wheel, humming along to the music coming through his speakers; . Summer Breeze by Seals & Croft: one of his favorite songs. He wished it was as lovely as the song outside. God was mourning today, his loss felt in every cold fat drop flooding the city, his sorrow showering down suffocatingly. Sandbags littered doorways. Notifications from city officials beeped on cell phones. Kylo’s windshield wipers were jutting back and forth furiously to clear the rain battering his car as he was stuck in commuter traffic. Honestly, he didn’t mind it one bit. This gave him alone time to reflect on his day at work, which was fairly uneventful. He got quite a bit done on his project, logged in an impressive number of completed jobs, and he felt proud of himself. It wasn’t in his character to overwork himself, usually resorting to the bare minimum but he felt driven today by some outside force. He couldn’t say it didn’t feel good to get a lot done once in awhile. His mind wandered often to a certain ginger from his dreams but if anyone noticed they didn’t say anything, not even Poe. Thankfully it was Friday and he had a whole weekend of doing nothing to look forward to. He might even enjoy the storm.

Traffic trudged along slowly as it could and it took Kylo nearly two hours to get home where Rey was waiting for him, something truly amazing smelling sitting on the stove. He came in, kissed her forehead, and went to his room to change out of his work clothes and plug his phone onto his charger. His room smelled like lavender Febreze. 

“You’re home late,” She noted, speaking loudly enough to carry her voice across the apartment.

“Traffic was insane,” Said Kylo, pulling a soft blue tee shirt over his head. “The rain was fucking torrential,” he slipped on his favorite checkered pajama pants, “and I think there was an accident on I-22 or something.” He walked back out and sat on the couch next to her. Orange is the New Black was on and he half watched, half let his mind go numb.

“How was work?” She asked, laying her head on his lap. Her hair was spread around her head like a renaissance halo, the light of the TV illuminating one half of her sun- kissed face. 

“Really good actually. I got a shit-ton done and I think I’ll reach my quota early.” He said with a small, proud smile.

“Awh Ben! That’s awesome. Right on.” Normally he wouldn’t let anyone get away with calling him that but his baby sister was an exception. When Han and Leia pushed her out of the nest, she came crawling to Kylo for somewhere to stay and he welcomed her with open arms. Best decision he ever made, cause now he had someone to do his laundry and cook for him. Plus he would be the first to admit his depression left him feeling very lonely sometimes and having her around was like his own personal happy pill. Calling her a Rey of sunshine was cliche and made him think too much of Han, but it did her justice.

“What are you making?”

“Beef Stroganoff,” She said, the smile audible in her voice.

“My favorite? What’s the occasion?” He looked down at her.

“Just had a feeling.” She poked his stomach and he chuckled. “Speaking of feelings, did you have another weird dream last night?”

“Yeah…” He said, eyes back on the screen. “I was in an abandoned church, and then a swamp or something.” He stretched out his legs. “He was there again, too.”

“The same guy?”

“The very same.”

“Hmm…” Rey hummed and swung her legs over the couch, springing up to her feet to go check on the food. “I wonder if it means anything. Like your brain is trying to tell you something?”

“Poe thought the same thing.”

“Poe’s smart.”

Kylo yawned and rested his head against the wall, clenching and unclenching his fists out of boredom. His tongue won’t sit right in his mouth. He begins to daydream.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed. You can find me on tumblr as Kylucc and on twitter @ Ritter_von_Ren
> 
> Dedicated to and beta'd by the wonderful @substanceblack who inspires me to share what's on my mind. Thank you friend.


End file.
